


Holy Literal Bird, Batman

by CrimeAlley1048



Category: Batfamily - Fandom, Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 17:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3776401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimeAlley1048/pseuds/CrimeAlley1048
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a Spyral case leads him back to Gotham, Dick Grayson sees some familiar faces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holy Literal Bird, Batman

“Okay but this is literally the worst plan I’ve ever been a part of. _The worst_ , Helena.”  
Of course, Helena ignores him, the same way she’s been ignoring him all day. He’s getting kind of tired of that.  
“And that is _saying_ something,” he continues. “Do you know how many terrible plans I’ve participated in? Hundreds. Probably thousands. My last partner was a ten year old. I’m amazed that I’m still alive, which coincidentally brings me back to my original point—”  
Dick Grayson throws his hands in the air. “I shouldn’t be here! Everyone in this city thinks I’m dead!”  
It’s not that he doesn’t like being back in Gotham, because he does. It’s just that it’s so damn painful— everywhere he looks, there’s memories. He keeps seeing kids in Robin tshirts, or graffiti tags for villains. There’s two of those in the street right outside their window. Dick knows the men that put them there, their names, their addresses, their mothers— he could find them both within half an hour if he wanted to.  
It’s driving him crazy. He shouldn’t be here, not like this. It makes him want to claw his new uniform right off his own shoulders. It’s okay to be a spy in England, but here? That’s not what he is.  
And then of course, there’s the bat-signal shining in the sky. That means the others are out right now, and he has no way of knowing where they are. What if one of them finds him? He can just picture how that would go.  
“Oh, hey… I’m alive.”  
“Not for long!” *Punch*  
Yeah, this is a terrible idea. Implants or no, if anyone he knows comes by, they're going to recognize him. It’s only a matter of time.  
“Helena,” he says. “We need to leave.”  
She doesn’t even look up. “If you’re so concerned, you can wait outside the door.”  
“Fine.” Dick turns to go, but before he’s halfway across the room, she calls him back.  
“Wait— Agent 37.”  
It’s pretty obvious what she’d looking at— Batman is standing right outside their building, clearly visible in the light of the lamppost.  
Well, as long as it’s only Bruce. Dick motions for Helena to get low, and they crouch down together, barely high enough to peek through the frame.  
Bruce looks good, way better than the last time they’d met up. He’s been sleeping, as far as Dick can tell, but he looks annoyed, like somebody’s keeping him waiting. Who that might be becomes infinitely clear a few seconds later, when a small figure drops from the roof.  
“Oh my god,” Dick whispers. “ _Oh my god._ Oh god.”  
It’s Damian. Damian’s here. He’s alive. Dick knew that, of course, but actually seeing him? It feels like his chest is about to cave in. Oh god. Look at that smug little face— Dick didn’t realize how much he missed it.  
Helena’s staring at him, but he doesn’t really care. “Remember that ten year old I mentioned?”  
“Yes.”  
“That’s him,” Dick tells her. “That’s my little brother.”  
“He’s cute.”  
“Yeah.”  
The two of them watch Batman and Robin below them, talking in the pool of lamplight. They only stay for a minute— just long enough to plan their next move, and then they take off.  
Literally, in Damian’s case. What the hell??  
“He’s flying,” Dick whispers. “He can fly?”  
“Apparently.”  
“But he couldn’t— I guess a lot has happened while I’ve been gone.”  
_Superpowers_. As if Damian didn’t have enough control issues already. Every criminal in a fifty mile radius must be pissing themselves over this one. Good luck, Bruce— you’re going to need it.  
The two of them have passed out of him sightline, so he turns back to Helena.  
“What are you smiling about, 37?”  
“Nothing,” he tells her. “It’s just—”  
“I guess I’m not the last Flying Grayson after all.”


End file.
